a melancholy love
in the morning the sun
is pink in your hair, in my
hair too. the dry frosted
grass has more life than
you think. we’re like
black cows yawning
on February dew
we can’t ever just
touch, especially
when we’re so blue
your neck bends, extends
a Picasso painting
in my corner
I mirror my hair a waterfall
though it not yet spring
could you please grab the scissors so I can be
a little pool of a pond, please?
could you please tell me
why i let it grow so long?
could you please cut it, cut it out
the dreamer girl is gone
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very nice images. I was really there with the pink in the hair, frost on the grass and black cows yawning